Patient 01649
by Lady Of The Violins
Summary: He just wanted to be let alone and live his miserable life at this miserable place, locked away from the world. Was this too much to ask for? Obviously, because this strange, white haired guy won't leave him alone. AU, please read and review. Rated M for dark themes. (Big thank you to my best friend who drew this great cover image)
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, guys, new story! I recently watched the horror game ****_Outlast_**** and it inspired me to this nice little story. I've finished it already, there are about 90 pages, I just need to proofread it, so please review if you like the story, then I'll do that faster.**

**Anyway, as you probably already guessed this is an asylum AU. First try with this kind of story. Will be dark at the beginning. Eventually GrellxUndertaker (big surprise). Sorry for spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own BB, the characters and several other things I will mention later**

**Patient 01649**

_**Day 1**_

Grell Sutcliff entered the room, a wide smile gracing his face when he sat down on a couch and threw his long, red hair back. The smile didn't fade, but got a little weaker when he saw a strange man in front of himself, rather young and professional looking.  
>"Good morning! Where is doctor Turner?"<br>The man pushed his glasses up.  
>"He is occupied with a new patient, so I will take care of you from now on. My name is Dr. Spears. So, Mr. Sutcliff, how are you today?"<br>Grell threw his hair back and looked at him in a slightly flirty way.  
>"I'm very fine, now that such a handsome man as you is here...although I'd prefer being called Miss."<br>The man called Spears frowned lightly.  
>"Miss Sutcliff, I read your file and I know that you're far from feeling 'very fine'. Let me ask more directly: Are you feeling like yesterday or worse?"<br>Grell's face fell immediately. He didn't want too many people to know what really happened inside him. He preferred to act like he was a happy, lighthearted person, too many people had laughed at him when he had told them how he really felt and that really didn't make anything better. Still, everyone at this place seemed to know it, it seemed like his attempts were useless. Maybe he should give up his facade, it was tiring and in the end he had to accept the truth...  
>"Worse. I'm feeling worse", he said therefore and Dr. Spears nodded slowly and wrote something onto the terminal board on his knees.<br>"May I see it?", Grell asked. He was wondering if this man was different from Dr. Turner, who hadn't been able to help him. Maybe the man with the glasses could? Said man hesitated a little before handing his board to the redhead.

_Patient number: 01649__  
><em>_Full name: Grell Sutcliff__  
><em>_Gender: Male__  
><em>_Date of birth: 12.2.1927__  
><em>_Current Age: 24__  
><em>_Date of admission: 4.9.1948__  
><em>_Diagnose: Chronicle, hard depression (daddy issues); confusion concerning his gender__  
><em>_Therapy: Escitalopram (Lexapro), Mirtazapine (Remeron); speech therapy__  
><em>_Special information: Patient is potentially suicidal, tried to commit suicide two times already. He should not have access to sharp things to stop him from harming himself.__  
><em>  
>Then there was a list with dates of this year and Dr. Turner's notes to them. The newest one was by Dr. Spears: <em>Patient tries to act happy first, but then says that he's feeling worse. Maybe he should get new drugs?<em>

Grell pressed his lips together and handed the other man the sheet of paper back. Patient. He was addressed as patient, like a dog. But in the end, was he better, was he worth more? He had to admit that this was ironic. The people here wanted him to believe that he was not a loathsome piece of dirt that deserved to die, but in the end they made him feel even more like that.  
>"Miss Sutcliff?", Dr. Spears interrupted his thoughts. His voice was soft. Grell looked up from his wrist that was bandaged again, still biting his lip with his unusually sharp teeth.<br>"Yes?"  
>"We really want to help you. I hope you know that."<p>

When the little redhead left the room, he had a headache again. He could use an Aspirin or something like that, but they wouldn't give him any without a letter from his doctor. Six months ago, when he had still been able to simply go and ask for painkillers, he had done that every day and collected them to swallow them all at once. Obviously he had been found before it had been too late.  
>He went to the big dining room slowly. The designers had tried to make the room look friendly and happy, so the walls were yellow and full of paintings, the long tables were light green and the chairs blue. It just helped to worsen his headache.<br>Crossing the room and heading for his usual place in the corner, he passed lots of other patients. Leroy Gallener heard voices telling him to do terrible things. Peter Sandler whispered things about his dead family all the time. Anthony Dervish thought he was being followed and they wanted to kill him. And there were so much more...  
>He sat down, pulled one leg up and hugged it closely, facing the ground. Finally he could have some peace, without being forced to answer questions that he didn't like, think about things that made him feel worse and tell of his childhood that made him feel afraid and worthless. Finally he could -<br>There was a low sound and someone sat down at the other side of the table. Grell looked up. The man's hair was nearly as long as his own one, but a shining silver, although he didn't look old. Twenty five to thirty maybe. Grell had never seen him before. He had placed a tablet with food on the table, but didn't touch it. Instead he looked at the redhead, smiling widely and showing perfect white teeth.  
>"Um...hello?", Grell said after a while, unsure what this stranger wanted here. He just wanted his peace, was this so difficult?<br>"Hello, Grell."  
>The other man frowned deeply.<br>"Why do you know my name?"  
>"Oh, I just know. Are you hungry?" Grell took a closer look at the strange man. His eyes were hidden by bangs of nearly white hair and he was deathly pale, his features were handsome though, only influenced by a scar running over his face. You could call him a mysterious beauty.<br>"No", he answered finally, but at the same time his stomach grumbled, what caused the white haired man to chuckle.  
>"You are. Here, take mine and I'll get new food. Don't worry, I didn't poison it."<br>He stood up elegantly and walked to the art of the room where you could get food while Grell's face darkened. _I would welcome every deadly poison you could offer,_ he thought and looked at his meal. It was a piece of meat with potatoes and a mass that smelled and looked strange. He decided to rather not eat it. When the fork with one of the potatoes was about to touch his lips, the man came back and sat down again, having a new tablet.  
>"I suppose you're new here, Mister, so I'll tell you: I prefer to eat alone."<br>_Don't even try to make friends, they will just use you and throw you away like the worthless piece of garbage you are_, his daddy had always said. Grell knew he was right. He _was_ garbage. Besides he had been hurt enough, he didn't want to endure even more pain. However, his comment was ignored  
>"Go ahead, eat! We don't want you to starve, mh?"<br>"Yeah...of course not."  
>He eyed his meal again, but then started to eat, earning a satisfied nod. When his plate was empty apart from the mass, he stared at the man again who finished his meal too in that second and pet his tummy.<br>"Ah, that was good."  
>"It was okay, compared to the stuff they usually serve. So...you know my name, but what is yours?"<br>"I was called many names already, but you can call me Undertaker."  
>Grell pursed his lips. He'd like to never call him any name at all and never see him again too.<br>"Undertaker? How come?"  
>"I am a mortician and somehow people forgot that I have a name at all. Maybe I did too."<br>"I see. Alright, Undertaker, I'll go then, I'm rather tired. Farewell."  
>He jumped up before the other one could say something, brought his tablet back and walked to his personal room to sit down on his bed and pull his legs close again.<br>What a strange person this had been! On the other hand...who at this place wasn't. Anyway, he'd probably never see him again and continue his life in here like in the last three years. He lifted his mattress up and took the razor blade from under it. He had found it some days ago, a sister must have lost it. Unwrapping his right wrist, he crossed his legs. This was what he waited for every day. For a few moments, the pain in his guts that made him want to bend over and cry would disappear. His father had always said that he deserved pain and hatred. This might be true, but he just _had_ to do it.  
>"I'm sorry, daddy", he whispered and ran the razor blade across his wrist. The wounds opened again immediately and soon blood was running down his wrist and dropping to the ground.<p>

When he was done, he washed the razor in the small sink in the corner of his room and hid it again before bandaging his wrist anew. If they found out the cuts were fresh, they would search in his room again and take the razor away.  
>Feeling a little lighter now, he leaned back and against the wall.<p>

**I hope you liked it, please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, guys! Sorry, was busy in the last days. Big thank you to Princess Kaycee, you made my day.**

**Anyway, here's the second chapter. Mwahaha.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters. Oh, and neither the text Grell reads out. It's from the song "I have a right" by Sonata Arctica. A great one, by the way, check it out.**

_**Day 2**_

"Miss Sutcliff, would you tell me what you can read here?", Dr. Spears asked the next day.  
>"It says 'I have a special right to grow up and to develop spiritually and physically in a healthy and normal way, free and with dignity. I have the right to love and understanding. My parents have special responsibilities for my education and guidance. I should be taught peace, understanding, tolerance and friendship among all people.'"<br>"Yes. Now tell me: Did you grow up in a healthy and normal way? Did your parents respect you and did they prepare you for a successful life?"  
>Grell shuffled on his seat. This was a dangerous question. He knew that the way he grew up wasn't like most people did, but his daddy had always told him it was right and deserved...<br>"I grew up in a way my father thought was a good way."  
>"What a well chosen answer. Tell me, what happened every day when you were younger?"<br>This was easy.  
>"My father beat me up."<br>"Yes. He hurt you. Physically, I mean."  
>"He did."<br>"Did you enjoy that?"  
>"Why should I have?"<br>"Do you think a father should do that?"  
>"Not every father, but it was right of my father to do this. Because I deserve nothing else."<br>"What did you feel when he died?"  
>"I was sad."<br>The Doctor sighed and stood up.  
>"I think we can't make progress today. We'll try it again tomorrow."<br>No progress today? There had been no progress in the last three years.  
>Grell stood up and combed his hair with his fingers before leaving and going to lunch like every day. Only today, there was a person sitting at his desk. What the...?<br>"As I said, I prefer to eat alone."  
>"Yeah, I know. I brought your lunch here already", Undertaker said and pointed at a plate with spaghetti and a tomato sauce with grey pieces in it.<br>"Uh...looks...good."  
>He gave up and sat down at the table to try his food. It wasn't exactly what you would call good. Suddenly he frowned. Until now, Undertaker hadn't asked him why he was here, usually this was topic number one here. At least one thing people could talk about.<p>

They ate in silence for a while until Grell looked up.  
>"Do you have Dr. Turner now?"<br>"Yes."  
>"And? Why are you here?"<br>Undertaker leaned back and grinned.  
>"Ah, that should not bother you."<br>Now Grell got indeed curious. This man wasn't like most of the other psychos here, he wasn't sitting in a corner and swinging back and forth, talking to his clothes or staring at the wall all the time...or bandaging his wrist.  
>"Okay, then...I have to go."<br>_And I want some time alone. Without you._  
>"Ah, what a pity. It's quite boring in here."<br>"Boring?"  
>"Yes. The talks with the doctor are tiring and the books are so...lowbrow. What do you all day?"<br>"Well...I eat breakfast in my room, pay the nice doctor a visit, eat lunch and the res of the time I sit in my room and..."  
>He looked at his wrist unknowingly and Undertaker clicked his tongue.<br>"Doesn't sound like a nice new hobby for me. Seems like I have to read the books then."  
>"Fine with me."<br>He stood up and went to his room like yesterday to do the same as yesterday, only then it didn't really help. That's why he pulled his shirt up and ran the razor across his chest. It had so much scars already that it wouldn't matter anyway. In the end, he still didn't feel better, though. He lied down on his bed and looked at the ceiling, his headache forming again.  
>"This man is really weird", he muttered to himself. But there were worse kinds of weird people.<br>After a while he stood up again and decided to read too.


	3. Chapter 3

**After this short chapter a longer one, yay! Please review.**

_**Day 3**_

The next day he was greeted by bright sunlight falling through the window. What a great shitty day. After breakfast and another session without progress, he was not surprised to find Undertaker at his table. While he sat down, a guard at the other side of the room leaned down to his colleague.  
>"Sutcliff is eating with <em>him<em> again."  
>"Yeah, I know. Do you think that's good for the redhead?"<br>"I have no idea. But it can't get worse, after all..."

"And? Was your day boring?"  
>"Yes. I thought we could possibly go to the garden? Better than sitting in here all day..."<br>Grell frowned.  
>"I don't want any friends."<br>"I never said we should be friends. I merely offered company. But, if I may ask, why?"  
>"Because I don't deserve friends."<br>"I see. Then what _do_ you deserve?"  
>"Being unhappy. Lonely. Getting beaten up."<br>"Well...if that is what you really want, I can't help you. Although I don't think that this is what you deserve. I think you deserve the opposite of it. But there's no need to discuss this, I don't want to be your friend anyway."  
>Grell crossed his arms.<br>"Fine with me."

He really shouldn't have said yes to this. Really. Why was he doing this?! He was acting against what his father had taught him - he was worth nothing and he should be treated like that. His father had always wanted a daughter, a little girl he could pamper, but he got Grell instead. That's why he always acted like a woman when he grew up and at one point decided to be one. As far as that was possible.  
>But maybe...maybe his father had been wrong? He winced at the thought. No. This was impossible. He would take more distance after this...excursion.<br>They sat down on a bench, Grell sitting on the rim to be as far away from him as possible, and looked at a garden with all kinds of flowers. He had to admit it was beautiful and for a moment he nearly forgot his sadness and the steady depression. It was not like he would sit in his room and cry, though, no, he was far beyond this. On good days he felt like he was dead, feeling nothing anymore, on worse days he cut. On the really bad days he wanted to kill himself.  
>"What is your favourite flower?", Undertaker asked after a while, long, slender fingers playing with a little branch next to the bench. Grell had to think about this. There were many flowers, some beautiful, some strong, but only the rose combined the two things. Red had always been his favourite colour because it was female, so he answered: "Red roses. What about you?"<br>"White lilies. They are the flowers of the death."  
>"Uh, mortician, I remember. Did you like your job?"<br>At these words, Undertaker's eyes started to sparkle, although Grell couldn't see it.  
>"I loved it! That was always the job I imagined for me."<br>"Even when you were a child?"  
>"Especially then. Bury all the bad people and make them never come back again."<br>"Bad people? You're talking from experience?"  
>"I do. Although that's nothing for a nice afternoon chat."<br>Grell sighed annoyed. Yes, why was he here? They were talking about nonsense and Undertaker was not willing to tell anything about his past. Grell should rather go and get some rest. That's why he stood up without another word and walked to his room quickly to fumble for his razor blade. He was really in need to do this and practically ripped the bandage down to cut and treat his skin. He started to feel numb again and welcomed the warm feeling. Yes...this was all he needed. His father wouldn't have approved of that, some things he did weren't what he would have wanted. Like cutting. Or acting like he was carefree although he was depressed, so people wouldn't make fun of him and hurt him with that.  
>He was just about to cut another line when he heard a soft knock and the door opened immediately. Undertaker stepped in, sat down at a chair next to the bed and stared at Grell who looked back and forth between the weird man and the blood dropping from his arm.<br>"U-Undertaker!"  
>"You left so sudden. Did I say something wrong?"<br>"No...I...I just wanted to be alone."  
>He placed the razor on his knee and wrapped the bandage around most of his under arm before looking at the other man again, this time unsurely.<br>"You are...um...not going to take it away from me? I mean my...my razor blade?"  
>Undertaker pursed his lips lightly and shook his head.<br>"No. That's your business. I don't approve it, but if it helps you..."  
>The redhead blinked a few times, surprised by the answer.<br>"Then...thank you, I guess."  
>He finished his bandage and leaned back to look at Undertaker, not sure what to say. On one hand he wanted to sit here alone like always, but on the other one, Undertaker wasn't that bad company.<br>_Yes, he isn't. Do you think you deserve this? No. You are rubbish. Dirt. And you need to be treated as such_, he heard his father's voice in his head and winced hardly.  
>"Is everything alright?"<br>"Y-Yes...yes."  
>"Mh...tell me, Grell, what are you good at?"<br>He wanted to answer 'nothing', but then thought about the question further.  
>"Well, I...I guess I'm good at acting. I spend most time of my life acting..."<br>"Acting? Sounds interesting. What about a little example?"  
>A sexy smile graced his face within a second and he stood up to straddle Undertaker's lap who started to grin too.<br>"Hello, my Undie-darling! Mh...what a handsome man you are."  
>Saying this, he ran a hand up Undertaker's chest that was all strong and muscular and up to his face, fingers stroking his cheeks. With a swift motion he pushed the bangs up that hid the white haired man's eyes and - nearly gasped. Said eyes were...awesome. Yellow-green, sparkling and unbelievable seductive. Grell collected himself quickly and went back to his usual, calm expression while sitting down on his bed again.<br>"Satisfied?"  
>"Indeed. You are very talented."<br>"...thank you. Undertaker? Could you leave me alone now? I'm rather tired."  
>"Of course. Didn't you sleep well?"<br>"I do nearly never."  
>"Oh, what a pity...can I do anything for you?"<br>"No!", Grell's answer came hastily. The sooner he was able to sleep a little and not be forced to think about things he didn't like, the better.  
>He removed the plain white shirt and grey pants everyone here wore, when Undertaker had left. No black for the patients, it was too 'depressing'.<br>Grell's dream was weird. It was his first school day again and he stood there, in worn-out clothes and with an equally old, red bag, being so shy and unsure. This part was imaginable and it had happened like that eighteen years ago. But then his father was there suddenly, smiled and said: "I'm proud of you Grell."  
>Only this one sentence. His real father would have never said anything like that and he certainly never looked at him as caring, loving as the father in Grell's dream did.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm so terribly sorry! I was really, really busy with school, I hope you can forgive me, from now on I'll post regularly again. Enjoy!**

_**Day 4**_  
>He slept until the morning and was still thinking about it when he dressed in fresh clothes. No, his father had not loved him, but it had been right this way...right? He suddenly asked himself what made him different from the other children that came to school that day. They had all been young, innocent and simply children, so how had his father been able to justify the fact that Grell was worth nothing? He had once answered this question: <em>It's nothing you did, Grell. It's your pure existence.<em>  
>With his headache worsening, he pushed away the inappropriate thoughts.<p>

"I am confused", Grell answered to the question Dr. Spears asked him the next day.  
>"Confused? How do you mean that?"<br>"It's the new patient, Undertaker. He always wants to eat with me and yesterday he even followed me to my room. I told him I wanted to be alone, but he didn't really care..."  
>"Maybe he is bored and wants company? In here aren't many people you can talk to in a normal way."<br>"Mr. Spears? Do you know why he is here?"  
>The older man adjusted his glasses before answering.<br>"I do know, but I am not allowed to tell you. It seems like you are curious? That's better than nothing."  
>It was true. Usually Grell didn't care about anything but what his father had wanted and about his little 'rule breaks'.<br>"I...I think so."  
>"I think you should spend more time with him. That's not an order, it's an advice. Contact to other humans is good in most cases and a friend-"<br>"I don't want any friends!"  
>"Because you think you deserve none, I know. But tell me why. What makes you different from other people, from me? You are not a bad person, Miss Sutcliff."<br>"I simply am worthless!"  
>"And why?"<br>Grell looked down and chewed on his lips. Oh how he hated this topic.  
>"Because my father said it?"<br>"Yes. But he was only one person. There are much more who think that you're not."  
>"I don't want to talk about this anymore! Nobody ever liked me and no one ever will, and that's right that way!"<br>Dr. Spears wrote a few things onto his board before nodding and letting Grell leave. He just hoped that the contact to Undertaker would lead to something good for the poor little creature, because acceptance and love of whatever kind was what he needed most.

Grell stomped to the dining room and sat down across from Undertaker, arms crossed.  
>"You seem displeased."<br>"I am displeased! This stupid doctor always forces me to hear things I don't want to hear. What are you doing here anyway? Why do you always come so soon?"  
>"Well...it seems like doctor Turner is not all too happy with being around me and I guess he thinks I can't be helped anymore."<br>Grell lifted an eyebrow while throwing his pills into his mouth and swallowing them. They had raised the dose again.  
>"You still don't want to tell me what you're doing here?"<br>"No."  
>"Why am I even talking to you, you won't tell me anything about yourself anyway and in here are nearly no other topics...", he muttered, thinking of Doctor Spears' words.<br>"Oh, I can tell you something about myself, that's no problem at all! I get bored easily, but I love laughing. My favourite colour is black, so it's tiring that the horrible clothes here are so fair. I love cookies. I work out three times a week. Do you want to know anything else?"  
>"How old are you?"<br>"28. Now you, what is your favourite colour?"  
>"Red."<br>"Age?"  
>"24."<br>"How cute. What were your hobbies before you came here?"  
>"Oh...I...I had none, I guess. Had no time for that. I always cooked for my father and me, though, and I quite liked that. Did never show it, he would have forbid it."<br>Undertaker grinned and cocked his head, playing with the fork in his fingers.  
>"Oooh, bad girl."<br>"Why do you call me a girl?"  
>"Why wouldn't I? I heard that you like to be addressed female."<br>"Yes...yes, I do. Why do you take this into consideration?""  
>"What a stupid question. So...you liked to cook. What about baking?"<br>"It can be fun too."  
>"Great! Then we'll make cookies together!"<br>"We...what?"  
>"We'll make cookies. As I said, I love cookies. I'll ask the doctors, but I'm sure it's okay, as long as I promise to not let you crawl into the oven."<br>He giggled lightly and stood up to do so while Grell still sat there and opened and closed his mouth. Spending too much time with Undertaker, his father wouldn't have approved of it. On the other hand...he felt better than usual. He didn't want to crawl up under his blanket or cut himself, he just...was okay with talking. He wasn't forced to talk about unpleasant things, no, this kind of talk was much easier. When the white haired man came back, Grell realised he was not wearing the usual slippers anymore, instead he had put on black combat boots.  
>"You are allowed to wear what you want and even black?!"<br>"Not really. I simply did it and my doctor couldn't say anything against it. Anyway, we are allowed to go to the kitchen and make cookies, as long as we're supervised."  
>"Supervised?"<br>"Yes. Seems like they don't trust us. Or rather me. Maybe they think I want to kill you", the white haired man answered and giggled again before pulling Grell's chair back to help him stand up, then he guided him to the kitchen.  
><em>I<em>_should not do this, I really shouldn't_, Grell thought on his way. But the advantage of not being alone and not wanting to die all the time was just too big.  
><em>I'm so sorry, daddy...<em>

The big kitchen had just been cleaned and everything sparkled. A man was standing in one corner to have a good eye on them and Grell bit his lip. Was there any reason to not be alone with Undertaker? No. If he was a danger for other patients, he wouldn't have been allowed to walk around freely. A little dark voice in Grell's head said that this was a pity. If Undertaker freaked out and killed him with a kitchen knife, the world wouldn't have to bear him any longer. He laid his face into his hands, squeezing his eyes closed, until a warm hand touched his arm.  
>"Grell? Do you need help?"<br>"No. I'm fine." He gave Undertaker one of his best acted smiles and started to search for the ingredients.

"I usually make bone shaped cookies, if that's okay for you", Undertaker said and used his long nails to form a little bone with the dough.  
>"Why bones?"<br>"Like I told you, I get bored easily. So I liked to scare my customers in the funeral home. I giggled madly, wore long dark robes and wiggled these, of course."  
>He wiggled his nails that were not only really long, but painted black and did indeed look creepy.<br>"The scars helped too."  
>"Where did you get the scars?"<br>"I won't answer that."  
>Sighting, Grell formed the same cookies, deciding to give Undertaker the silent treatment, although he wanted to ask if that was the reason why the man hid his eyes. Those <em>gorgeous<em> eyes.

When the whole dough had been used, the silverette put them into the oven, always watched by the guard. Grell sat down on the counter and stared at the ground. Maybe he should simply avoid every topic that contained Undertaker's past? He realised more and more how good it felt to have someone to talk to about easy things or to simply sit next to him and it seemed like Undertaker felt the same, why would he always await or follow Grell otherwise?  
>He knew he was directly ignoring his father, but when Undertaker really was too good for his loathsome self, shouldn't he know that himself and keep away from Grell? Besides it wasn't like the ex-mortician was a normal human, there was a reason he was here, where the premise was surrounded by five metre high walls and high voltage to keep the patients from being a danger for themselves (like in Grell's case) or others. The really dangerous people were fully locked up, but still...<br>Suddenly he felt something warm on his lip. He looked up to find Undertaker holding a cookie in front of his face, smiling as nearly always.  
>"The cookies are ready, little dreamer!"<br>Dreamer...what a polite word.  
>"Oh! I was just...are they good?"<br>"I don't know, I thought you deserved the first bite. Open up."  
>Grell did as he was told and the other one pushed the cookie into his mouth, gently brushing a crump away with his thumb.<br>"They taste great!"  
>"Yes? Let me try too...yes, they are just as I like them. We need a place to keep them, though, at home I kept them in an urn..."<br>"You...? Um...I think a box should do. Like this one."  
>He showed Undertaker a little box he'd found in one of the shelves and started to put the cookies into it.<br>"Can I keep them in my room? You're welcome to come whenever you want so we can have a little snack together", Undertaker asked and earned a nod.

After they had cleaned up, Grell excused himself to read and sleep a little, the higher dose of drugs made him tired and caused him a new headache while he felt terrible again as soon as he was alone.  
>He rolled up on his bed and hugged his slender legs, worn-out and full of physical and emotional pain.<p>

**Please review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Please review!**

_**Day 5**_  
>The next morning he woke up with an even greater headache, heart feeling like a cold hand was squeezing it to juice again and again. Great. He didn't touch his breakfast when it was brought to him and said the sister she should tell Dr. Spears he was ill and ask him if he could write a letter to enable some pain killers for Grell. He wanted nothing more than to make at least his emotional problems go away for a while, but he couldn't bring himself to sit up. It wouldn't have been good for his headache anyway if he would have stressed his body even more. He had had such days before. The last one, even worse though, had been six months ago...<br>He closed his eyes again. Maybe he would just fall asleep again and never wake up again. His attempt to do so was ruined when the door opened suddenly and Undertaker entered the room, this time without smile.  
>"Grell? Are you okay?"<br>The redhead sat up, wincing because of the sudden movement.  
>"Of course I am. Why shouldn't I?!'"<br>"Your acting two days ago was better. You didn't come to lunch, so..."  
>He walked closer to the bed, noticing how pale Grell was. He stared at him for a while and then sat down on the rim of the bed.<br>"What's wrong?"  
>"Just a headache."<br>"Mh...you look like there's much more than that. Don't you have painkillers here?"  
>"Not allowed to have any", Grell said while shaking his head carefully"<br>"Give me five minutes."

When Undertaker came back, he had a little package and a glass of water in his hands and sat down on Grell's bed again.  
>"Here. I'll give you the whole package if you promise to not do anything stupid. That means no more than four pills within twenty-four hours."<br>"I promise."  
>"Good", the older man answered, took three of the pills and handed them to Grell, putting the rest of the package onto the nightstand where his breakfast still stood.<br>"Aren't you hungry?"  
>"No."<br>"Really?"

"Yes."  
>"Okay. So...what's wrong, Grell?"<br>"Nothing, as I said."  
>"I'm not stupid. You're not looking good at all, this isn't just the headache."<br>Grell closed his eyes for a while and sighed lowly. Although it couldn't get any worse, right?  
>"I think the headache comes from the new dose of drugs. Only...they don't help. I'm feeling worse."<br>"Worse? I'm sorry for that."  
>Now the redhead looked to the side to hide his face. Suddenly he wanted to talk about it, about his past. Undertaker never forced him to do so, unless the oh so nice doctors, and maybe that was the point.<br>"Undertaker? Can I tell you something?", he asked lowly. He would probably laugh at him now, because no one would ever like him enough to pay attention to him.  
>"Of course, you can tell me everything you want."<br>"Are you sure?"

"Yes."  
>"Okay, so...I wanted to tell you about my past. You know, usually I don't do that willingly, but now I feel so bad and...and nobody is talking me into it, so..."<br>Undertaker smiled lightly and slid a little closer so he could lay a hand onto Grell's knee.  
>"Well, um...where do I start...so...my father hated me. He always wanted a girl, but he...he got <em>this<em> instead. And when my mother died only days after my birth, he said it was my fault too. So he showed me how he loathed me every day."  
>"What did he do?", Undertaker asked softly, his eyes honest.<br>"He beat me up. He kicked me or broke my bones while yelling at me that I was worthless and how much I deserved pain. I...I believed it. You know...I loved him. I would have done everything for him, I hoped one day he would love me back, although I didn't deserve it..."  
>He bit his lip hardly and Undertaker started to stroke his knee comfortingly.<br>"I soon started to become more and more female, I thought he would like that better. In the process I realised that I did too. I started to wear dresses at some point, but he only laughed at me. I guess he was happy that I gave him more reason to hurt me, to deserve pain even more.  
>This went on for twenty-one years and my whole world collapsed when my father died. He had been the only one I ever had, I had never had any friends, he had made sure from the beginning that I didn't deserve friends. From one moment to the other, I was all alone. I had started cutting many years ago already when I accidentally found out that I felt better when I hurt myself. When my father was still alive, I did it at my thighs to not let him see it, he would have forbidden it. But I <em>needed<em> it. When he was dead, I used my wrists instead. One day I overdid it a little and collapsed on the street. Policemen found me and in the end I got here. I always do what he wanted, only sometimes I break the rules. I'm cutting and well, I'm telling you all of this because I hope it makes me feel better, although I'm not supposed to feel better..."  
>"Grell?", Undertaker asked when he had finished, his voice really soft.<br>"Yes?"  
>"Do you want to know what I think about this?"<br>"...okay"  
>"I think you have to decide. Either you follow your father's rules completely and live alone and unhappy forever, without trying to make yourself feel better. Or you decide that you want to be happy, because you can only be if you <em>want<em> it. Then you would have to accept that your father was the loathsome one because he wanted to destroy you and that you are not worthless at all. Right now you are between the two options and that doesn't help in any way. I recommend the second one, but in the end it's up to you."  
>Grell kept silent for a while, needing to let these words sink in. He had never thought about the topic like that.<br>"What would happen if I chose the second option?"  
>"That would be all up to you. You know, people try to help you, but right now you don't let them. Doesn't the fact that they want to help you show that there is something about you that is definitely worthy?"<br>"M-Maybe?"  
>"Not maybe. I think it was fun for your father to torture you. You need to let people show you what acceptance is."<br>"Can I...think about it first?"  
>"Of course you can, I don't want to force you. I just hope you make the right decision. Do you want me to leave you alone?"<br>Grell looked at him with unsure, slightly afraid eyes.  
>"Would you stay with me?"<br>"If you want that, of course. Do you want me to simply sit here? Or hug you?"  
>"You would hug me?"<br>"Of course I would. I told you people are liking you and they don't think you don't deserve their company, you just need to see it."  
>"O-Okay. Then I would like a hug."<br>The white haired man smiled widely and slid next to him, then wrapped his arms around the small figure and pulled him in. Slowly, Grell relaxed and after a while he laid his head against Undertaker's chest, just to try how it would feel. It was great. The tall man was wonderful warm and strong, for the first time in his life he felt protected and safe. Maybe Undertaker was right? His headache had faded and the constant pain that was usually clenching his guts together was eased too. He had thought about his father being right or not many times in the last days, to be exact since the weird guy had sat down at his table, and in the end there was the fact that he was a self-harming, gender-confused patient in an asylum, but he had never hurt anyone else. So why shouldn't he deserve some good things in his life?  
>He closed his eyes while Undertaker started to stroke his hair. No, this was not bad at all.<p>

After a while he even fell asleep, as peaceful and calm as he didn't in a long time, comforted by Undertaker's warm arms. Said man didn't stop stroking his hair, he simply sat there and hugged the little redhead. Once a sister came in, but he raised a finger, put it to his lips and winked at her, before letting his hand sink into Grell's soft, silky hair again. In the evening he slid down, pulling the other one with him and resting his head on his chest. He carefully shoved the blanket over both of them, then he closed his eyes and slept too..


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry, I couldn't find time to proofread this...ehem. Please review!**

_**Day 6**_

When Grell awoke the next morning, he knew something was different. His pillow was harder than usual and smelled different, a little like male aftershave or perfume. And he felt good. Really relaxed and recovered.

"Good morning, Grell, I hope you slept well?", a low voice said close to his ear and he shrieked lightly, only then remembering that Undertaker had offered him a hug and it seemed like they both had fallen asleep sooner or later.

"Good! I mean, I slept and feel really good! There's no weight pressing down on my chest, no stabbing pain in my guts. I'm feeling simply...satisfied."

"Glad to hear that", Undertaker said and stretched, careful to not hit Grell's head.

"What about you? Was it-"

He was interrupted by the door opening and a sister coming in with his breakfast. She looked at Undertaker, then at Grell and then at the bed they were both lying in, needing some seconds to get this. Then she put the tablet down on the nightstand and left without saying anything. Undertaker chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

"I guess she misunderstood the situation a little."

"Uh...yeah...probably."

"Anyway, what do we want to do today?"

"I don't know...but not sitting in here all day. Can we go to the garden again? I promise I won't run away this time."

"Sure. But first you need to eat something, you haven't yesterday", Undertaker said and handed him the tablet.

"You didn't either. Here, take some bread and an apple, I don't eat that much anyway."

They ate together in Grell's bed , being careful with the crumbs, though.

"We could not go to lunch today and have a picnic in the garden instead.", Undertaker offered after a while and wiped some apple juice off his chin.

"A real picnic? Sounds interesting. I wanted to shower after breakfast, they are probably empty then and I have to go to my meeting with Dr. Spears. We could meet up after that."

"Dr. Spears, eh? Handsome young doctor."

Grell looked down and bit his lip. Yes, Dr. Spears was handsome, but Undertaker looked so much better. Not that it mattered.

"Yeah, maybe..."

The other one chuckled and stood up, then took the plates and put them back onto the tablet.

"I'll leave you alone now, so you can take your shower, I guess I'll do the same...until later then, I'll pick you up after your meeting."

The shower rooms were indeed empty, so Grell could undress fully and use as much hot water as he wanted. He didn't want people to stare at his male body, so he always tried to take showers at times where most of the other patients were busy. When that didn't work, he kept on his underwear and made haste. However, he was lucky and soon wrapped a towel around his chest while drying his hair with another one. Sometimes his long hair was a real pest, but he liked it like this and wasn't being happy with things part of his "new life"?

Dr. Spears was delighted that Grell felt better today and eagerly took notes,

"And I...I decided to try and live a normal life."

"Yes? That's a big step forward, Grell, how come?"

"I talked about it with Undertaker."

"I see...so he could do what the doctors couldn't...amazing."

He smiled honestly and let Grell go, this time earlier than usual. The redhead had expected to find Undertaker in front of the room, waiting for him, but he had to be patient until the ex-mortician appeared. He looked tired and stressed out as he smiled at Grell.

"Hey."

"Hello. Is everything alright? You don't look that good..."

"Oh yes, I'm fine. They just started a new therapy today and it's rather straining."

"What kind of therapy?"

"Nothing special, just the typical things. Do we want to go now? I packed us a little basket already." He held up said object and smiled. Grell was silent while they went to the garden and sat down under an old tree after Undertaker had taken a blanket from the basket and out it to the ground, so they could sit in the shadow.

"And? What did Dr. Spears say?", the white haired man said when he took several things out as well and placed them around the two of them.

"He was positively surprised, I'd say", Grell said and looked at the bread in front of him. In Dr. Spears' office he'd had an idea. The first part of it was easy, but for the second one he needed some luck.

"Undertaker?"

"Yes?"

"Can you at least tell me your first name? You know mine too. Please." He looked at him with his best begging eyes. He was a master at this look, how many times had he looked at his father like that...

Undertaker sighed.

"You really want to know, don't you? Okay. I'll tell you if you promise me that you will never call me by it. I don't like it that much..."

This statement made Grell even more curious, but he nodded slowly.

"It's Adrian. There. You better forget it now."

"Adrian? I think that's a beautiful name. Suits you."

"If you think so...what do you want to eat?"

Grell kept silent again. What was Undertaker's problem? Why was he here? And why didn't he like his name? Was it an equally terrible story as his own one? So many questions, but he would make sure to find the answer to at least some of them soon. If he had luck, that is...

He leaned back and placed his head in the soft grass, watching a little lady bug climbing in it. Undertaker smiled at him and looked at his red hair that made a good contrast to the light green grass. After a while he laid down next to Grell, both of them enjoying the peace that surrounded them. The redhead smiled very lightly. Oh yes, this was better than sitting in his room all day and hoping that the day would end soon. He didn't even feel the urge to cut right now, he just laid there, relaxed and thought about his plan.

"_Oh look at yourself", the tall man over him said._

"_How pathetic you look, crawling on the ground like a little worm who deserves to be smashed under the shoe. But you deserve that too, don't you? You deserve to be treated like the worthless little worm you are...yes..."_

_The man lifted his foot as if he really wanted to kill a worm, but then kicked Grell's side hardly, again and again. He moaned in pain, but then screamed when he heard a cracking sound. The man laughed louder and stopped, just to sit down on Grell's chest, directly on his broken rib. He screamed at the top of his lungs and tried to get rid off the man, who simply laid a hand around his throat and squeezed it until his victim kept still, tears running down his cheeks._

"_Yes...that's better. You _know_that you deserve pain, I'm sure of that", the man said and took his hand away._

"_Please...please, daddy...stop."_

"_No, Grell, I won't stop. Why should I? I just started..."_

_The man stood up again, took the slumped down form from the ground and started to beat his face with the free hand, earning more screams and tears._

"_You are worthless, Grell, and nothing will ever change that. No one will ever love you, you hear me? No one..."_

No one, no one...the words were still in Grell's head when he awoke in the night, crying and breathing hardly. He pulled his legs to his chest and hid his face between his knees, desperately trying to calm down, although it didn't work.

He had hoped that the dreams that kept him from sleeping would stop now, but obviously that was not the case. Oh how he wished for Undertaker to be here now, to protect him with his strong arms again...

He stood up with shaky legs and stumbled to the door. Undertaker had showed him where his room was in case he wanted to get some cookies they had made.

The hallways were dark and he ran one hand over the wall to not slip. The last thing he needed now was falling and spending the whole night in a cold hallway surrounded by psychos.

The room he searched for was at the second floor so, he carefully went up the stairs, holding onto the handrail with shaky hands. He sighed when he reached the next floor and went to the left side, having trouble to see the numbers on the doors in the darkness. He hesitated when he reached Undertaker's room. Would he be angry at him for disturbing him in the middle of the night? Or wouldn't he wake up at all and he had made the way for no reason?

Finally he could bring himself to knock shyly, facing the cold stone floor, though, and rubbing one of his feet against his leg to warm it.

"Grell?", a by now familiar voice asked. Grell looked up, being a little ashamed of his terrible looks with red eyes while...oh...while Undertaker was shirtless. The redhead quickly faced the ground again to not stare at the well built body with nice abs and everything.

"Did something happen? Ah, just come in", the white haired man said with a small yawn, took Grell's wrist gently and pulled him into the room and to his bed that was still warm.

"Are you cold?"

"Yes."

Undertaker nodded and pushed Grell onto his back carefully, climbed to him and wrapped his arms around him before covering both of them with his blanket.

"This should do it. What's wrong now?"

The redhead suddenly felt ridiculous that he came her for such a little reason. Everybody had nightmares every now and then, but that was no reason to disturb the beauty sleep of a man he knew only one week..

"I...I had a nightmare."

"Oh...poor thing. Was it about...?"

"Yes."

"I see. He can't hurt you anymore, Grell, never again. You are here and you are save, always remember that."

"Y-Yes...I'm sorry for coming here and annoying you with that little thing."

"You are not annoying me in any way and I'm always glad if I can help you. Try to relax, will you? You look tired." Saying this, he gently stroked the skin under Grell's eyes.

"I hoped it would stop now. The nightmares, I mean."

"They will stop, you just need to be patient. Are you feeling better already? Or do you want anything else?"

"No, thank you. I should probably just close my eyes and try to fall asleep again..."

He did so and slept with slightly partened lips only seconds later while Undertaker chuckled to himself.

"Rest, sleeping beauty, I will take care of you", he said and leaned down to brush his lips over Grell's forehead, then he fell asleep too.


	7. Chapter 7

**Happy New Year, everyone! I hope you all had a great start. Anyway, here is the seventh chapter, please review (again not proofread, sorryyyy) **

_**Day 7**_

When he awoke, Undertaker was still sleeping, eyes closed and with a satisfied expression. He smiled and brushed the other mans hair out of his face to have a better look at the long lashes, elegant cheekbones and the handsome, straight nose. God, was this man sexy. Grell hesitated. When he would give his best to become normal, was he allowed to think of attractive men then? Because Undertaker was _definitely_ attractive. It was like his fingers had their own mind, because suddenly they were stretching and stroking over the other one's cheeks, nose eyebrows. Undertaker scrunched his face a little and opened an eye, what caused Grell to pull his hand back quickly. The tall man grinned.  
>"Good morning. Did you sleep well now? No nightmares?"<br>"I did, thank you for allowing me to stay here."  
>"No problem. I wish I could offer you a more comfortable 'home' than this room, but this has to do it."<br>Grell looked around, yesterday there had only been half light. The room looked a lot like his own one, only the painting at the wall was even uglier and the walls itself were not painted a light green but blue, the kind you used for male baby clothes.  
>"It could have been worse. Pink walls for example."<br>Undertaker laughed loud and heartedly, petting Grell's arm in a comfortable way.  
>"That was a good one. Pink walls! I have to admit that I don't mind pink things, in fact my favourite bookmark and the fitting pen are pink and black, but walls? Ew. On the other hand I wouldn't even wonder if they would have painted the cafeteria like that. It's so colourful..."<br>"I always get a headache when I see it."  
>"Then you would have loved my old shop. All black and dark and with cobwebs."<br>"Cobwebs?! I thought you were a man who liked it clean and fresh..."  
>"I do, the rest of the house always was clean and not as dark as the selling room, but it was funny how it creeped my customers off...oh yes, I miss the good old times. But who knows, maybe I can return home one day and show you everything."<br>"That...would be nice."  
>"It would indeed. Mh...maybe I should put on a shirt before my breakfast arrives, we don't want the sister to get a heart attack when she sees us."<br>Grell looked at his bare upper body one last time, at the hard muscles and broad shape before it was hidden by one of the white asylum-shirts. What a pity.  
>"I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany you today, little rose, Dr. Turner wanted to make long tests before and after the new therapy, so I will be busy all day."<br>Grell's face fell. Undertaker was his shining hope, with him he felt better immediately, but when he wasn't there...then he was lonely again.  
>"Oh...okay. Then I'll..."<br>He couldn't come up with something else he could do, so he didn't end the sentence, but stared at his hands that were folded on the comforter.  
>"It's just for one day, then I will be able to spend time with you again, don't worry."<br>"It's okay...I mean...it's generous enough of you that you are willing to spend time with me at all."  
>"Why wouldn't I? You are a good person to have around, not to mention pretty."<br>Did Undertaker just call him pretty?!  
>"Well...thank you."<p>

When the sister came in, she only frowned lightly.  
>"Grell Sutcliff! Why are you not in your room? I came to you for no reason. If you have to sleep together, do that at least in your room, that's earlier on my way and then I know that I don't need to come to Undertaker. Anyway...here's the breakfast for you two."<br>She slammed two tablets onto the nightstand and stomped out while Undertaker started to chuckle first, then burst into laughter.  
>"Oh my, this woman", he giggled after a while and wiped some tears off his eyes, then handed Grell his tablet and started to eat.<p>

"I should go then", Grell muttered when his plate was empty.  
>"So I can take a shower and dress in fresh clothes."<br>"Already? You could shower here and put on my clothes...but okay. Do you want me to come over in the evening in case you have nightmares again?"  
>The redhead looked at him like a deer in flashlights.<br>"Yes, please?"  
>"Alright. I'll come as soon as Dr. Turner lets me go."<br>He stretched and pulled the shirt over his head, then reached for his pants. Grell stared at his upper body for a second and left the room quickly, hearing Undertaker's light chuckle.

"You had a nightmare again?", Dr. Spears asked and took notes.  
>"What was it about?"<br>"My father, what else...the same as usual."  
>"What did you do about it?"<br>"I...I went to Undertaker."  
>The doctor took his glasses off and frowned at Grell.<br>"I want to give you an advice. I welcome it that contact to him helps you, but don't get _too_ close to him, if you know what I mean, most people would not approve of that and try to heal you from that too. Be careful."  
>"Oh, I'm not...we're not..."<br>"But people could think it and the fact that you slept in his bed doesn't help."  
>"He wanted to come over in the evening, in case I have a nightmare again..."<br>Dr. Spears sighed and put his pen down.  
>"I can't forbid it, but please be careful. Don't tell anyone else. Gre-Miss Sutcliff-"<br>"Grell is okay."  
>"Alright. Grell, do you have feelings for him?"<br>"Feelings?"  
>"Yes. I mean more than what you feel for a friend."<br>"No! I mean...I guess not. I'm not sure."  
>Dr. Spears sighed again and put his notes away.<br>"Okay. I just hope you'll use my advice."

It was a horrible day, like...really horrible. Grell sat on his bed and red a book from the library, not being able to concentrate on it, though, due to his clenching guts. He was feeling cold and the pain in his tummy made him feel sick. The hours seemed like years, his headache worsening all the time. He took the painkiller Undertaker had left him, although he didn't break the promise and leaned down, a cool hand pressed to his forehead. He wanted _him_ to be here, he was the best medicine Grell had ever gotten, although Dr. Spears had warned him to be careful.  
>His heart started to beat faster when he heard a knock and Undertaker came in in the evening.<br>"Undie!", he said happily and jumped up to wrap his arms around the man's neck.  
>"Wow, seems like someone missed me!"<br>Grell took his arms back immediately and stared at the ground.  
>"I'm sorry. I just didn't feel that good when I was alone."<br>He decided to rather not tell him of Will's advice, but be careful indeed.  
>"No need to be sorry. I came to you as soon as possible."<br>"The therapy...how did it work?"  
>Grell looked at the white haired man closely, only to notice that he looked even more stressed out and was shaking a little.<br>"The tests showed no improvement, so they will continue the therapy and test me once a week."  
>"I'm sorry about that, I hoped your state would improve too..."<br>Undertaker smiled, but it was a little sad.  
>"So...you called me Undie, huh?"<br>"Um...yes?"  
>"I like this. Nobody did before."<br>"Then I'll do that. Now come in, you look like you would collapse any second."  
>They sat down on the bed and Undertaker sighed lowly, running a shaky hand through his hair.<br>"Are you sure you are alright?"  
>"Yes...yes, of course. How was your day? Do you feel better now?"<br>"I sat in here and...yeah, didn't feel good. I didn't cut though."  
>"That's good. The wounds need to heal. Let me have a look at it, okay?"<br>Grell nodded and showed his wrist that got carefully, but quickly unwrapped by Undertaker until red, crusty lines could be seen, but it was definitely healing.  
>"Looks good indeed. Better than when I came in and they were all fresh. Maybe you should throw the razor blade away. I won't take it away, it has to be your decision if you do."<br>"Why?"  
>"Because then you will always think 'Ah, he forced me to hand them in'. But when you do it willingly, you'll remember that you were strong enough to do that alone. That you don't need pain anymore and that you can feel good without hurting yourself."<br>"You are a wise man, you know that?"  
>Undertaker chuckled and lifted Grell's right arm up to place a light kiss onto the wrist what caused goosebumps on the redhead's whole body.<br>"I think you should wear the bandage for a few more days, so the wounds can heal butter and won't scar that much."  
>"That doesn't matter, I'm full of scars anyway..."<br>Undertaker lifted his bangs up and looked at him in a way that said 'Are you fucking kidding me?', the scar over his face and at his throat being even more visible.  
>"No, really. My whole upper body is full of scars."<br>"Show me."  
>"You...? No. That would be inappropriate."<br>Grell's cheeks were nearly as red as his hair now.  
>"Forgive me, I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, I just couldn't believe this. Where did you get them?"<br>"I cut there too, when my arms didn't help anymore. Plus whip marks and scars from operations."  
>"Operations?"<br>"To fixate my broken ribs."  
>"I understand. Although I'm sure you are still gorgeous."<br>"Gorgeous? You must be joking."  
>"I'm not."<br>Grell snorted and shook his head.  
>"I'm far from that. I have a weird, unnatural hair colour, wear glasses, and this body...I would love to have curves, but this body has to be so...so <em>male<em>. I don't like it at all..."  
>"I like it."<br>Grell snorted again, arms crossed, and Undertaker smiled lightly.  
>"Grellieeee, remember that I mean everything I say and that you should accept it when people like you in any way, mh?"<br>"But it seems ridiculous to me! This body is a...a disgrace. I'd do nearly everything to be a real woman with pretty curves and soft features. Without the edged jaw and without..._it_."  
>"There are so many pretty, curvy women. No, the real struggle is to be special. If you're one among hundreds, you will be forgotten soon. But if you are of a special, rare kind of beauty, the people will always remember you."<br>"If you say so..."  
>"I don't simply say it, I know it. Wise man, remember?"<br>He chuckled and leaned back, crossing his arms under his head.  
>"Are you feeling better now?", Grell asked after some minutes had passed"<br>"I do indeed."  
>"You are not shaking anymore. Did the therapy contain physical work?"<br>"I won't tell you about it, Grell, I said that before and that's it."  
>His words sounded harsher than he had intended them to be and Grell winced, sliding away from him. Undertaker regretted it immediately.<br>"No...don't. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that so harshly, it's natural for you to be curious. The therapy...it just...claims me a lot. Come here..."  
>Grell looked at him unsurely, but then slid closer and lied down too, head rested on the inner side of Undertaker's upper arm.<br>"That's better. I'm afraid I'll probably fall asleep soon, it was a long day."  
>"That's okay, I'm tired too. Those stupid drugs. They don't help, but make me tired and give me a headache. At least I got my old dose back, now that I'm feeling better. Maybe I will have to take even less some day?"<br>"I think so. From what I heard, Dr. Spears is strict and very professional, but he wants just the best for his patients and he does his best to treat them as much as needed, but as little as possible."  
>"Yeah...I like him more than Dr. Turner."<br>"Dr. Turner is rather...special and drastic."  
>"He definitely is. I always had the feeling he thought of me as nothing but a guinea pig, an animal who makes an interesting test object."<br>He didn't get an answer to this. Undertaker had closed his eyes and was now breathing calmly.  
>"Undie?"<br>Again no answer. Grell smiled lightly and lifted his head to have a better look at his features. He leaned forward carefully and laid his lips onto the other one's cheek, a blush creeping to his face.  
>"Sleep well, Undie. You deserve it."<br>He watched the sleeping form for a while and put on his pyjama, glad he could be sure he wasn't being watched...although Undertaker was not the kind who would do that. He probably would have looked away or turned around.

**The next chapter will explain a lot...until then!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Long chapter ahead! This one will explain a few things...enjoy!**

**(At Princess Kaycee: I got the idea while I travelled with my class for one week. Yes, it was like a madhouse)**

_**Day 17**_  
>Another one and a half weeks passed without that much changing. Undertaker slept in Grell's room whose state slowly got even better, he didn't have nightmares anymore and the pain in his guts had nearly disappeared. The ex-mortician himself was shaky and burned out every time he returned from his therapy, although he tried his best to hide it, what worried Grell more than anything else right now, so much that he decided to find out what this dubious therapy contained.<br>After having breakfast, he waited until Undertaker excused himself and followed him silently, keeping a certain distance, of course. Undertaker went to a part of the building he had never been in before. It wasn't as white and sterile as the rest of the building, the ground was old and from dark stone, probably the original ground still, the walls were painted in a white that looked rather like grey now. Grell didn't have a good feeling about this, but he was too curious to walk to his own session with Dr. Spears, he was probably missed by now, but this was more important.  
>Finally Undertaker stopped in front of a door, knocked and entered the room. Grell's heart beat had achieved a new record when he carefully went to the door too and pressed his ear to it.<p>

"_Good that you are here, Mr. Crevan. You may sit down already, we will start every second", a male voice said. When you listened closely, you could hear it was Dr. Turner._

"_Make sure you prepare the electrodes! I don't want to have such a chaos as yesterday...yes...that's alright. Are the shackles tight enough? Good, then the electronics..."_

Shackles? Now Grell couldn't bear it any longer. He slowly opened the door.

The room was rather dark. Undertaker was sitting in the middle of it, on a big, wooden chair, his wrists and ankles tied to it, two men, one of them Dr. Turner, standing around him and checking small metal things that were fixated on his head. Next to the door was a table with all kinds of electronic devices. He looked up when Grell came in.

"What are you doing here?!"

"I...I wanted to watch the...um...therapy." His voice was low, so Undertaker wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Watch? Must be a real insane one then...hey, Joe! Are visitors allowed?"

The man standing next to Undertaker and Dr. Turner came over and looked at Grell.

"You want to see it?"

"Y-Yes?"

"Well...I guess there's no rule that forbids it. Just stay here, next to Mr. Harding and don't annoy us. Got that?"

"Of course. Thank you."

"Yeah, whatever..."

He went back to Undertaker who was sitting in a way that prevented him from seeing the door and therefore Grell. Dr. Turner turned around and made a thumbs-up sign at the man called Mr. Harding, who knocked and switched a few buttons.

"Alright! We're ready. One hundred fifty Volt, half an Ampere, two seconds. And...go", he said and switched another button. Undertaker suddenly started to shake hardly, his hands knocking against the wood. He let out barely audible screams and moans of pain, muffled by the gag. After two seconds he relaxed again, his head sinking onto his chest. Grell watched in horror how he was breathing hardly. So this was it. They were _treating_ him with electric shocks. His hands started to shake when Dr. Turner lifted his head.

"More power, Andrew."

"Sure, boss?"

"Yes."

"Alright...one hundred and seventy Volt, one point eight Ampere, two seconds. Go."

When he pushed the button again, Undertaker started to shake even harder, as if all his muscles were flexed at once. What they were. The shaking stopped again. Hair had fallen into his face, so Grell couldn't see his expression, he could barely imagine the pain he'd had and how he would scream if he could. He was so shocked that these horrible creatures were doing this to his Undie, the only thing that could help him, that made his pain disappear...

"More power again."

"More? Do you want to kill him?!"

"No. But the therapy needs to show an effect, doesn't it?"

"Yeah...yeah. Two hundred Volt, one Ampere, two seconds. I really can't go higher than that."

"It should be sufficient. Ready?"

"Yes. Go."

New waves of flowing electrons hit Undertaker's body and made him nearly dance in his chair. His head was lifted again and now his screams were even audible with the gag. Grell felt his heart nearly break at the sight he was offered. For nearly two weeks he had to endure this every day, not to mention the weekly special tests and he had always acted like everything was okay. Hadn't he called the therapy _straining_? It was indeed, but not in any way Grell could have ever imagined.

Two endless seconds ended and Undertaker's head sank down again, his fingers in the handcuffs relaxing. Dr. Turner grabbed his hair and lifted his head up so Grell could see it too. His eyes were closed, the lips slightly partened. The doctor let his head fall down and put a finger to his pulse-area.

"This try was a success, he is unconscious."

Grell's eyes widened. Undertaker had fallen unconscious and this was a success?! He suddenly felt ill and wished nothing more than to grab his Undie and escape from this horrible place. He looked at the man next to him, eyes full of fear.

"Is he alright?"

"Yes. Loosing consciousness is the main goal of this therapy, otherwise it wouldn't have any effect. You know him?"

"Y-Yes...he's a friend of mine and didn't want to tell me what kind of therapy he got, so I was curious. But this..."

The lump in his throat worsened.

"I understand. Don't worry, he'll wake up in about thirty minutes."

"Can I...go to him?"

"Ask the doctor. Usually they wait until he gets conscious again and send him back, but maybe you could bring him back to his room with a rolling bed?"

Grell nodded shakingly and walked to Dr. Turner who was taking some notes, not daring to look at Undertaker.

"D-Dr.. Turner?"

"Yes, Mister Sutcliff?"

"I'm a friend of...Mr. Crevan. Could I bring him back to his room already?"

"I'm afraid this is not possible. Sometimes patients loose parts of their memory after the therapy, and we don't want him to panic and hurt himself or others. He will awake in half an hour, you can wait here."

"Can I go to him?"

"Yes. But don't untie him until he awakes."

Grell nodded and walked to the unconscious body that was only held by the shackles. He gently stroked the white hair away to look at him. Undertaker's cheeks were wet of tears and some drool was running down from the corner of his mouth. The redhead swallowed and carefully dried the other man's face with his sleeve.

"Undie...what have they done to you...", he whispered, feeling tears coming to his own eyes. The thought that Undertaker woke up everyday, in pain and surrounded by sadistic men in white coats, apart from that alone, made him want to throw up. Or cut again. Yes, that would be nice. He would not do it, though, apart from the fact that he had indeed handed his razor blade in, it would just bring his problems back and he wouldn't be able to care for Undertaker.

He spent thirty minutes there, stroking the white haired men's cheeks and and arm, being careful to not let it seem like they were a couple or anything, the men in the room, however, didn't seem to be suspicious, they were interpreting the latest results and discussing about what to change or not to change in future.

There were steps behind Grell and he turned around to see Mr. Harding.  
>"How is he?", the man asked lowly.<br>"I'm not sure. He is still unconscious and shows no signs of awaking soon...his wrists and ankles are a little sore due to his pulling at the shackles, but the rest is okay...I guess", Grell answered worriedly.  
>"I hope so. I don't think this kind of therapy is that good, but I'm just an electrician."<br>"I thought you were a-"  
>"A doctor too? No, I'm lacking the abilities for being a good doctor, besides I prefer not commanding around, but doing things myself and with my own hands. This job is just an order by the bosses, I'd rather not do it. But...the children need to be fed, huh?"<br>"Understandable. Mr Harding?"  
>"Yes?"<br>"What kinds of psychological problems are treated with electric shocks?"  
>"There are many. Schizophrenia, all kinds of bipolar disorders, multiple personalities, psychological disorders in general...oh, and depressions of course."<br>"De-Depressions?"  
>"Yes. We have achieved quite good results with patients where drugs and the other therapies didn't help."<br>Grell opened his mouth to say more, but at this moment Undertaker let out a soft moan.  
>"Undie! Are you okay?" Stupid question.<br>Another moan and fluttering eyes.  
>"G-Grell? What are you doing here?"<br>"I followed you to find out what your therapy is, and...oh my, I'm so sorry."  
>His lips were quivering again at the pathetic state the so tall and strong man was in. If he had known this...<br>"Hey, boss? The patient is awake now", Mr. Harding next to him said. Dr. Turner came over to them.  
>"Good. What is your name?"<br>"A-Adrian Crevan."

"Very well. It seems like he didn't lose his memory again, he may go back to his room."  
>Mr. Harding nodded and carefully undid the ties around Undertaker's hands and feet, who stroked his hair out of his face and rubbed his red wrists. He still seemed numb, but closed his eyes for a few seconds and stood up.<br>"Let's go, Grell."  
>"Are you sure?"<br>"It's not the first time. So yes. Are you hungry?"  
>"No. You need some rest, come with me."<br>They walked outside and when the door had closed, Grell laid an arm around the other man's waist to support him, what looked quite funny, because he was so much smaller.  
>"It's okay, I can walk alone."<br>"Are you sure?"  
>"Of course I am, I'm not a child anymore."<br>His voice was again harsher than he had planned and Grell was taken aback, but pulled his arm back and faced the floor while they walked to Undertaker's room without saying more.  
>The white haired man laid down on the bed and closed his eyes, his breathing still harder than usual. Grell stood next to the door, unsure what to do now. He was so worried that he wanted to take Undertaker into his arms and simply hug him, but he wasn't sure what his reaction would be, so he just stood there and waited, biting his lip all the time. After a while the white haired man sat up and looked at Grell.<br>"You can come here, you know."  
>"But you said..."<br>"I said you shouldn't treat me like a child. I didn't mean to offend you. So...now you know it..."

Grell walked closer and sat down at the rim of the bed, hesitantly starting to stroke his arm again what caused a light smile on Undertaker's face.

"Yeah...I do. I was so curious that I had to follow you, but I would have never expected anything like that..."

"I didn't want you to see it."

"Thought so...it was really..."

He swallowed, because the lump in his throat was forming again. How Undertaker had shook and screamed...now he would definitely get nightmares again.

"Shocking?"

"That's not funny."

"I know."

"How can they do this do you and even call this a therapy?! It's barbaric and I bet it doesn't even work."

"They had cases where it _did_ work. And maybe it does with me too."

"Are you depressed?"

"No."

"Schizophrenic?"

"Neither."

"Do you have multiple personalities?"

"They all say no."

"Stop joking, this is a serious topic."

"It is and I'm serious too. I won't tell you about it, Grell, end of story. I'm sorry if that bothers you and that you are curious about it, because it's not as obvious, but a no is a no. Besides I don't even know if there's a name for my problem and the things I did."

Grell stood up in a swift motion, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Fine. If you don't want me to help you, then be it. I think we have switched roles now, because right now _you_ are the one who doesn't want to accept that there are people – or at least one person – who like you and who want to help you. But okay, I won't force you to anything. Goodbye."

Saying this, he turned around and walked out of the room and directly to the big garden where he sat down under the tree where he'd had a picnic with Undertaker, burying his face in his hands. Why did Undertaker never tell him anything? Not about the therapy, not what he did or why he was here, nothing. Why was he always keeping secrets from Grell? Didn't he trust him?

He sniffed and wrapped his arms around the small of his own body, wanting nothing more than to cut again. Undertaker had made him feel better for two weeks, but right now he made it worse than ever before. Grell's father had been right. No one would ever like him and eventually throw him away, same with Undertaker. He had been bored and therefore searched company, but the little redhead wasn't worth to tell secrets to. He should have listened to his father...

Grell sat there for quite a while, hiding his face from the world, until he heard steps next to him.

"I don't want to see you, Undertaker", he said muffled and without even lifting his head.

"Then it's good that it's not Undertaker."

Now Grell did lift his head and saw Dr. Spears who sat down next to him in that moment.

"You didn't come to our meeting. Did you sit here all the time?"

"No. I found out that Undertaker is an asshole too."

Dr. Spears clicked his tongue.

"What did he do?"

"Nothing, that's the problem! He never tells me anything, he always keeps secrets from me. Why should I know that he gets tortured with electric shocks? I'm just his friend, so why should he tell me about his past, why he's here?"

"Grell? Didn't you think that maybe he doesn't not tell you because he thinks that you are just a random person he just uses so he won't be that bored, but because he really likes you?"

"Why would he not tell me if he liked me?"

"To protect you. I'm sorry, but two weeks ago you were so depressed that you got the highest dose of drugs possible, you cut yourself and were always at the border to commit suicide, do you think it would be good for you if someone came and bothered you with their problems although you have enough ones already? I think it would rather be contra productive, so if I was him, I wouldn't tell you either, but try to cheer you up instead. And that's what he did. You feel better after all, don't you?"

"Yes...a lot. But then why doesn't he tell me now?"

"Maybe he is worried that you fall into your depression again? It's not like you are all fine now, you can have a relapse every second."

"I guess I have one..."

"No, you don't. This is just a normal sadness because you are disappointed, you will learn what the difference is."

"And what am I supposed to do now?"

"Well...I think you should go back to him, or at least to your room and tell him about your feelings, you should talk about this. And when he still doesn't want to tell you, you have to accept that, I'm sure he does it for your best."

"For my best...you really thinks he does that why he likes me?"

"I do. I think he likes you...a lot."

"A lot? How much is that?"

"Grell, I'm a psychologist, not a mind reader. I can see from his behaviour that he likes you, but how much...I have no idea. What about you, though?"

"I still don't know. Right now I'm rather angry, but in general...I feel comfortable around him and I never want him to leave. If I could, I would spend the whole day in bed with him, having my head on his chest. Is that stupid?"

Dr. Spears adjusted his glasses, having a little smile on his face, though.

"It's not. Go and find out what it means yourself."

When Grell stopped in front of Undertaker's door, he felt unsure again. The rage and disappointment about the man's behaviour had passed and now he only felt unsure. He wanted to see him, but what was he supposed to say? That he was sorry for running away? Well, he wasn't. Undertaker had hurt with with his constant secrets and he had left, because he didn't like to be hurt, that was a natural reaction. Maybe Undertaker wouldn't even be there?

The thought encouraged him and he opened the door. Undertaker _was_ there. He sat on his bed, holding his head in his hands and massaging his temples, although he looked up when the redhead came in.

"Grell!"

He stood up and walked to him, not touching him, though.

"I'm sorry, Grell. I really am. I didn't want to hurt you or make you feel used...I'm doing this for your sake, you know. I don't want you to have to bear this too."

"Dr. Spears said that too."

Undertaker frowned.

"He did? When did you talk?"

"He found me In the garden and he said that you didn't want me to feel even worse because of your problems. I was not sure if he was right, but when you say that too..."

"I do! Why don't you come in and we talk about everything in peace?"

Grell nodded and came in, sitting down on the other one's bed with crossed legs. Undertaker smiled at the rather cute sight.

"So...what exactly did Dr. Spears say to you?"

"The same you did. And that I should accept if you still want to keep secrets from me, because he was sure you'd do it for my sake."

"That's right...I won't. You would see me in a different light then..."

"Is it so bad?"

"It's...you wouldn't understand it."

"Oh, okay...you don't need to tell me then."

_I will find it out nonetheless..._

"Thank you. Maybe some day..."

"Yeah..."

"For now: Not being hurt anymore?"

"Deal. Do you think...um..."

He cleared his throat and Undertaker smiled.

"What do I think?"

"That maybe we could...cuddle?"

The ex-mortician's smile turned into a big grin when he nodded and sat down next to Grell and pulled him half into his lap.

"Of course we can, my pretty red rose."

Grell sighed softly, resting his head against Undertaker's chest and hugging him back. Yes, this was definitely better than being hurt and sitting alone under a tree.

**Please review, you are all so lazy! Apart from one person, you get a piece of cake.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm so sorry for the delay, I was really busy! To make up for this, here's a chapter with a cute little ending *Wants to make a heart sign***

_**Day 18**_

When he walked to Dr. Spears' office the next morning, after having a good sleep in Undertaker's arms, he felt like he had a rock in his guts. Why he would have a relaxed talk, his friend would be tortured again. At first he had wanted to come with him again, but Undertaker had said he should rather go to his own therapy. They would meet in the dining room after it so Grell could make sure he was alright.

On his way he remembered that there was something else he wanted to talk about with Dr. Spears. Something utterly different he had forgotten due to that stress yesterday, now the stone grew even bigger.

He knocked and came in, sitting down on the couch.

"Good morning, Grell. How are you feeling today?"

"I have a bad conscience. I can sit here and talk while Undie gets tortured..."

"He doesn't gets tortured, he gets treated."

"I think it's the same. But I wanted to talk about that anyway. Can you help him? Is there a way to stop the therapy?"

"They would stop it if he was healed, but that's difficult to say at his disorder. I'm afraid I can't do anything about it, I'm not his doctor. You could try to talk about that with Dr. Turner, but he's not the kind who would give up an interesting case. So no, I think you have to bear the thought. I'm sorry about that."

"Oh...okay. It's just...seeing him like that..."

He bit his lip.

"But that's not all. I talked to the electrician who controlled the electric shocks. He said that they use the technique with depression too..."

Dr. Spears let his board sink down. He didn't say anything for a while, thinking how he could best explain the situation.

"Yes. This therapy is indeed used at depressions. The problem is that the idea of it is quite new and this institute has only one machine for that. Because we have so many patients there is a waiting list for the patients with minor priorities, such as depressions. The ones with top priorities skip the list and get the therapy immediately. One of them was Undertaker."

"I...I see. Where am I on the list?"

"Is this so important?"

"It is."

"You were on top of the list. You would have been the next to get electric shocks, but then Undertaker came and had a higher priority than you."

Grell's eyes widened. He opened his mouth and closed it again, not knowing what to say to this. He would have been the next. If Undertaker hadn't come, he would be tied up to the chair now, shaking and screaming.

"So he...he took my place?", he finally whispered, his voice husky.

"In a way, yes. Although he doesn't know of the waiting list and that you would have been the next one. Although I'm sure he would be relieved, as he wouldn't have wanted you to be in his place."

"I would have been the next..."

His eyes widened suddenly.

"Does that mean I will get electric shocks soon as well?"

"No, don't worry. To be honest I'm not just here because I had time for another patient. After Dr. Turner had been called off, I signed in for the job and the first thing I did was taking you off the list. Two years ago Dr. Turner killed one of his patient because he overdid it and used too much power. He is more careful now, but still I try to get as many patients of the list as possible, one death was enough."

"A-And Undertaker?"

"I had no chance to do the same for him, he was directly sent to Dr. Turner who is much more experienced than me, especially when it comes to people like Undertaker."

"But is he endangered? You said-"

"I said Dr. Turner is more careful now too. That's not the only reason for my attempt to help you. I think the pain the electric shock therapy causes it's not worth its results."

"Then...thank you."

"You're welcome."

Grell looked down, being really shocked by the fact that he had been so close to being tortured as well. Although Undertaker having to endure it wasn't better in any way.

"C-Can I go then? I need to see him and check if he's alright."

"Of course. I'm glad you're making such a progress, Grell, I just wanted you to know that."

Grell nearly ran to the dining room, glad to find the familiar face on their usual table. He nearly ripped Undertaker off is chair to pull him into a tight hug

"Oh my God, Undie..."

"Hey...is something wrong?"

"I'm just glad to see you save and sound. How bad was it?"

"It...went faster today, so it was more bearable than yesterday. What about you?"

"I...Dr. Spears told me something. I'll tell you later, for now let's eat."

He sat down at did so, looking at Undertaker all the time, though. He was too glad that he was okay that he needed to watch him all the time. Well, and Undertaker was really nice to look at.

"Eat! Otherwise you'll get even thinner than you are", Undertaker said with a light chuckle and nodded at the food in front of them what made Grell blush.

"So...what did our dear Dr. Spears tell you?"

Grell sat down on his bed and hugged his legs. And then he told everything he's heard one hour ago to an ex-mortician who got more and more angry while he listened. At the end he had jumped up and paced around the room.

"They wanted to do the same to you? These bastards wanted to torture you as well?! Oh this Dr. Turner. He deserves a special place in hell! How could yo do this to a poor thing who has done nothing wrong? How could you give someone who suffered all his life even more pain?! If he ever intends to do this, I swear I will cut him into pieces and force him to eat himself!"

The last part was only growled and Grell hugged his legs tighter, he couldn't help but feel scared at this new, dangerous side of Undertaker. He sometimes nearly forgot that he must have done something so sick that he was here, but now he could imagine it quite good.

The way Grell crouched there must have reminded him that he shouldn't loose his temper so easily and that the redhead was probably rather afraid of his behaviour, so he sat down too and looked at him in a much softer way.

"Forgive me, I got a little too caught up in it. It's just the fact that they would torture such a small, beautiful creature as you, who didn't do anything wrong in his life, who had just been born into the wrong family and had so much pain already..."

He looked at Grell with honest eyes and put an arm around his small shoulders, laying his lips onto his head.

"It's okay. You just...scared me a little."

"Understandable. I'm really glad I could take your place..."

"You didn't know it and it's not like you could have decided to do it or not."

"No, it was a lucky coincidence. Still...I couldn't live with the thought that my pretty rose gets treated like that."

"Why do you call me your rose?"

"I thought it would fit you. Beautiful and fragile, yet strong in a way. Does it bother you?"

"No, I was just curious. No one gave me a nickname before."

"I'm happy to be the first one."

Grell blushed at this statement and slid even closer to the other man until he nearly sat in his lap.

"Oh, what is this supposed to be?", Undertaker said with a smile in his voice.

"I...um...wanted to be closer to you? I'm so glad to have you here with me now..."

"You mean, without damage? Or rather without more damage than usual. But I'm too, there's nothing I would want more than to sit here with you and have you in my arms."

"Really?"

"Yes."

They sat there until the evening, hugging each other and talking. Grell told him more about his past, how his father had treated him in the worst way possible, how he had fun torturing him.

"You see my wrists? When you look closely, you can see that the left one is a little sharper edged, here. You maybe have realised that I am left-handed. My father didn't like that and wanted to make me write with my right hand. I really tried it, but it didn't work. My handwriting wasn't readable, so I went back to using my left hand. He was furious when he found out. He tied my left wrist to a fence so I couldn't pull it away, to a stone and smashed it onto my wrist until it broke."

Undertaker, who was sitting behind Grell, legs wrapped around his hips, reached around Grell's body and gently took his left wrist, then kissed it in the most loving of all ways.

"Don't think of that anymore. What he did to you was horrible, but now you are safe and he can never hurt you again...never. Think about the present, dear."

"I do..."

He yawned softly and Undertaker smiled, wrapping his arms around the small of Grell's body and hugging him one last time before letting him go.

"I guess it's time for bed."

"Yeah...can you...turn around while I undress?"

"Of course."

He turned around immediately, although he was smiling all the time. Grell waited for a few seconds, then he quickly undressed and put on his pyjama, before crawling back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Undertaker from behind.

"You can look again."

"Okay. Then it's time for me to undress now. You can look or not, I don't care."

He stood up and pulled the shirt over his head, and Grell did indeed not look away, but took in the sight he was offered. Strong muscles on Undertaker's arms, chest and tummy, but not too much. It was just the right amount so you could feel protected from strangers, but didn't need to be afraid you could be crushed.

He removed his pants to and a blush creeped to Grell's face, although he was still wearing his underwear.

"No need to be ashamed", Undertaker chuckled softly and slid under the covers next to Grell, then hugged him closely.

"Sleep well, my pretty rose."

"Undie?"

"Mh?"

"Can you stroke my hair again?"

"Of course."

He did so and the small redhead fell asleep soon. Undertaker smiled at how peaceful his expression looked now, how at ease. He bent down and kissed Grell's hair, then brushed his lips over his ear.

"I love you...", he whispered, closed his eyes and fell asleep too.


End file.
